I fought for America abroad, but now I’m fighting to save it from within

I remember riding the Hudson Line from West Point down to lower Manhattan, standing before the still-smoldering wreckage at Ground Zero, and feeling a storm of emotions crash over me — anger, fear, helplessness.

Veterans have seen what happens when democracy collapses abroad

Credit: Grant Miller

Credit: Grant Miller

That same knot in my stomach is back. The anger is familiar, but the threat has changed. After 9/11, the danger came from outside: terrorists determined to destroy us. Today it comes from within: our own anger, suspicion, and willingness to excuse violence as politics by other means.

If we let this internal threat grow, we risk doing to ourselves what no foreign enemy has ever achieved — tearing the country apart from within. I wanted to fight for my country then. I want to fight for it now. The fight now is not overseas but here at home: rejecting violence, resisting vigilantes, and recommitting ourselves to one another and to the Constitution.

As a veteran, I’ve seen what happens when violence becomes the language of politics. In fragile democracies overseas, ballots were replaced by bullets and neighbors became enemies.

I was in Iraq during the first provincial elections in 2008, watching citizens risk their lives to vote. I commanded in Afghanistan during the 2010 parliamentary elections, when women walked to the polls under threat of attack. Those moments taught me both the fragility and the courage of free societies. The external threat abroad was clear. The internal threat here is harder to see — but just as dangerous.

History shows that once political violence takes root, it is almost impossible to uproot. America is not destined to go down that path, but only if we choose differently.

Protecting the American way requires citizens to show up and participate

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

The antidote to political violence is not silence; it is engagement. From the beginning, America has been built on loud, messy disagreement. That is not weakness. It is the bedrock of our system.

Free speech, assembly, protest, persuasion: These are the tools of a free people. But for them to work, we need trust. And that kind of trust doesn’t come from shouting online; it comes from showing up — serving side by side, coaching kids, volunteering at food banks, rebuilding playgrounds. That’s how we blunt the internal threat, by remembering that before we are partisans, we are people, with a shared stake in this country.

When violence enters politics, it does more than wound bodies — it poisons democracy. It silences voices, convinces people debate doesn’t matter, and makes intimidation seem like power. That is what our enemies abroad always wanted. We cannot hand it to them by doing it to ourselves.

As we look toward America’s 250th anniversary in 2026, we face a choice. We can allow political violence to spread, finishing the work foreign terrorists could not. Or we can fight for this country again — not with weapons overseas, but with courage here at home. The courage to reject fear, to resist vigilantes, to defend the Constitution, and to rebuild civic trust.

I wanted to fight for my country then. I want to fight for it now — and I need you to join me. The fight is different, but the mission is the same: preserve a free society strong enough to survive disagreement without turning it into violence.

If we accept that mission, we honor the sacrifices of 9/11 and the wars that followed, the sacrifices of earlier generations, and the promise of America itself. The story of America is still ours to write — if we have the courage to fight for it.